


just blew in from the windy city

by ijemanja



Category: Calamity Jane (1953)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/pseuds/ijemanja
Summary: The windy city is mighty pretty, but they ain’t got what we got.
Relationships: Calamity Jane/Katie Brown
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	just blew in from the windy city

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marginalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginalia/gifts).



The streets of Chicago are bustling as always. Calamity ducks out of the way of a cart piled high with barrels only to narrowly avoid a fancy coach and six coming the other way. Near knocks over a gentleman in a bowler hat once she gains the safety of the sidewalk; she tips her cap in apology to the unfortunate feller before continuing on her way.

She’s come in not an hour since on the Deadwood stagecoach, bringing the post and a passenger or two. In no great length of time they’ll turn themselves around and head right back home carrying more post, more passengers, as well as goods for trading. 

Right now Calamity is on a mission of a less usual nature. She’s been sent out under Katie’s orders and wouldn’t dream of straying from the path she’s been set upon in order to gawk at the city sights surrounding her at every turn. The instructions Katie had given her were clear and the directions being good and true, Calamity reaches her destination without too much more trouble than the aforementioned hustle and bustle the big city can incite. 

It’s a curious establishment she finds herself in front of; a small sign over the door giving only the proprietor’s name and no window full of wares for passers-by to admire. She’s not all sure it’s the right place but heads on inside after wiping her feet on the doormat – a newly acquired habit she’s plum proud of remembering.

“Howdy-do,” she announces herself, “I’m here to pick up a package for Miss Katie Brown.”

Not more than a few minutes later she’s back out on the street looking down in puzzlement at the brown paper-wrapped parcel in her hands, not the first idea what’s inside it, nor the second or third idea neither. Katie had said she ordered it special by post, but hadn’t seemed keen on telling Calamity what all it was.

She doesn’t suppose it’d be fair nor fitting behaviour to untie the string and take a peak under the paper so she inspects it as it was given to her. The package is longer than it is wide, about a foot from end to end, with a decent heft to it. Not much of a rattle to the thing. The only thing she can reckon is it might be a six-shooter. But Katie could just borrow one of Calamity’s if she had either the need or urge to shoot something.

With a shake of her head she gives up on such thoughts for now, unhelpful to her current situation as they are. Now that this most important of tasks is seen to there’s other business to be done and the attractions and distractions of the city to enjoy before the Deadwood stagecoach heads on its way.

*

The long journey home across the plains is peaceful and Calamity has plenty of time to ponder the matter of the mysterious package Katie had sent her to collect. And ponder it she does, giving the parcel more than a few good shakes along the way to see if anything more might be learned. But it’s no use, the parcel surrenders none of its secrets, her curiosity goes unsatisfied, her impatience unappeased for the time being.

The usual kerfuffle greets the stage on its arrival in Deadwood, the usual folks gathering to clamour for their deliveries and to hear the latest news. Calamity deals with them all to a man but afterward she doesn’t tarry long in town as she once might’ve. No hanging around the bar telling tall stories and drinking sarsaparilla for her, no siree. It’s round the back of the Golden Garter to the stables, fetching her horse, saddling him in a flash, setting out at a brisk pace for home.

Home! The word never held such appeal. The old cabin never called to her in such darned enticing tones the way it calls to her now, tugging on each one of her heartstrings and playing them in tune. This final leg of her journey is blessedly short and soon sees her trotting along the familiar dusty path, the cabin coming into sight up ahead. 

*

Turns out Katie is hard at work in the garden when Calamity arrives home. The neat rows of green beans and tomatoes are so high, and Katie's pretty head bent low at her work, such that Calamity strides right on past her at first. So eager to get on in through the bright painted door of their little cottage, so happy to be home. 

“Calam!” Katie yelps. Her head appears up over the top of a tomato bush just as Calamity’s upper-half leans back out the open doorway. 

“Oh there y’are, Katie!”

They meet on the garden path that’s been neatly marked out with borders of stone, Calamity placing each one with care under Katie’s particular direction. Katie’s there in her dungarees, hair wrapped in a kerchief and her cheeks pink in the afternoon sun. Calamity tips her cap, swaggers a little, till she’s close enough to catch up Katie round the waist and swing her in a circle. A high laugh rings through the air.

“I wasn’t expecting you back till tomorrow,” Katie says, a might breathless when her feet are back on solid ground. “It must have been a good trip.”

“It surely was, nice ‘n quick and no trouble from any quarter neither goin’ hither nor comin’ thither. And I’d reckon we had our business seen to in Chicago mighty fast, too.”

“Well, good, I’m glad you’re back safe and sound.”

“And right as rain in a rain barrel.” Calamity nods firmly. 

“Why don't you go and see to your horse and wash up, then come inside. I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

Calamity shakes her head in vigorous denial.

“You’re not hungry?” Katie asks.

Another shake of the head. 

“Did you eat already at the Golden Garter?”

A third shake.

“Well, then you’ll just have to open your mouth and tell me.”

Calamity does nothing of the sort, but she does tap her cheek pointedly and Katie, with a laugh, finally understands. She springs up on her toes to kiss the offered cheek, and Calamity goes off happily to wash the dust of the road from her skin and get her horse put away. Loses no time about for she is, in fact, most fearful hungry. 

*

It’s only in unpacking the saddle bags that she finds and remembers the brown-paper-wrapped parcel brought in all the way from the Windy City, special delivery for one Miss Katie Brown herself.

That same Miss Katie Brown blushes when Calamity puts it in her hands and asks if she’ll finally go ahead and satisfy her curiosity as to the contents.

“Oh, I – well, I – oh, why don’t you go ahead and open it, see for yourself.” Katie presses the parcel back into Calamity’s possession. 

She’s almost more interested in what has Katie in such a tizzy than what’s to be found hidden inside the parcel, but the answer to one mystery being the resolution of the other, Calamity sets to cutting the twine and pulling apart the brown paper. And finds to her surprise –

“Uh, well now, that’s a might fine…” She glances up at Katie. “A mighty fine whatever it is.” She looks back down, scratches her head. “No siree, can’t say I’ve ever seen the like.”

“I wasn’t sure what you’d think of it,” Katie confesses. “It’s a new invention, and when I read about it in that advertisement, you see, I felt I just had to have one. Oh, I simply can’t wait to try it out.”

“An’ just what’s it for? I can’t make head nor tail of the thing.”

“Well,” Katie says, biting her lip in a most becoming way, “why don’t I show you?”

*

Of all the amazing things Calamity has encountered in the Windy City, so many things she’s never seen nor heard the like of before, this here has them all beat. This newfangled mechanical device is a wonder and no mistake. 

And its purpose? Well that’s the most wondrous part of all.

The device is about as long as her forearm and has a handle at the top and a crank to turn which sets the opposite end a-whirring. When Katie sets it to working it produces the most wondrous effect. Calamity’s eyes nearly pop right out of her head. 

Never in her life did she imagine such a thing could be conceived of, let alone used for such a purpose!

It takes but a few minutes all told; once Katie gets the hang of it, has a nice, steady rhythm going, the new doohickey works like a dream and quickly achieves the desired result. And such a result! Katie seems as pleased as Calamity in the end, although she’s quieter in her satisfaction.

“Well, I think it’s simply grand. It doesn’t do anything I couldn’t manage just as well by hand,” Katie concedes over the noise of Calamity’s continued exclamations, “but it works so quickly! And it is much easier on the wrist, I have to say.”

“Well buckle m’ boots if I ain’t dang appreciative of the results either way. But I can see why you had your heart set on having the thing.”

Katie beams at her, such a charming arrangement of features that Calamity just has to stir herself to press a kiss to those pretty lips. 

“Why don’t you have a turn with it now?” Katie says, freshly kissed and smiling all the wider for it.

“Sure would be happy to,” comes her eager reply, “but do we have any more eggs for mixin’?”

“Plenty enough for a second layer,” Katie assures her, and then sits herself down and puts her feet up, this time letting Calamity do all the hard work of making the cake batter.

Sponge cake is her favourite and all, but Calamity sure is glad for this fancy new mechanical egg mixer to hurry the process along.


End file.
